This Feeling
by HylianDeity
Summary: Alfred had always been foolish man, foolishly in love and ever so foolishly oblivious to anything that threatened it


There was something about Arthur Kirkland that Alfred hoped to never tire of.

Was it the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, or the faint blush that appeared on his pale cheeks whenever Alfred dared to kiss him, the soft, caring feeling of being able to be so close and intimate with another always seemed to leave him breathless, never had Alfred considered that such an amazing feeling could've actually existed in a world that was so remarkably cold and harsh.

Maybe it was the way Arthur would subconsciously lean into his touch whenever the two sat close to each other, or the fleeting glances that Alfred never failed to notice from his partner. Occasional smiles and blushes appearing on his cheeks whenever they spent time together doing nothing at all and everything at once.

Alfred doubted he would ever be able to write all the reasons why he loved this man, each day he would discover new thing about his partner. Something incredible and amazing, a never-ending fascination. How intriguing this creature was. And surely the list would not end. Forever being written and scrutinized by judging eyes of it's author, wanting it to be just as perfect as the man it was written about and knowing he could never come close to such a perfection.

Being so irrevocably and uncontrollably in love with each other made his heart beat faster, his breath quicken and his palms shake. Whenever their hands would entwine seemingly casually without a care in the world. Prolonged glances and caring touches. The countless nights of passion and desire, being so close to one another that Alfred felt his chest would burst from all of the feelings he held for this person, this man that he could've easily gone a lifetime without meeting. But would have always felt incomplete. A void that would never have been filled and yet never have been noticed. The constant ache of the unknown and what could've been.

But it was a strange feeling.

Whenever they would fight, throwing insult after insult at one another without thinking of the consequences. Pointing out each others tiny flaws ever so carelessly and shattering down any walls of trust they had together. Never meaning any of the things that he said, yet saying them anyway as if they had something to prove. These days would always in tears, whether they came from his partner of both of them, forgiveness would always insure. Throwing aside the past dispute and holding each other close, hushed apologies and shaky laughter, tender glances and soft kisses. He worried there would be a day that it would not end as well. That the thin line between love and hate would be broken, unable to be repaired and shattering the fragile relationship that they held.

Perhaps he was being melodramatic thinking all of these things, worrying about a future that would never happen. Fears and doubts about his lover, thinking thoughts that should never be thought. Foolish things. Never feeling enough for one another, wanting to be better for him but unable to push himself to do so. Arthur would always smile at his insecurities rewarding Alfred with a chaste kiss, telling him that he had nothing to fear. Both of them had flaws and both of them knew they existed behind the facade of their undying love for each other. Yet ignored them. Wanting only to see each other in the best of lights. Maybe this was foolish, but he didn't care.

They had waited too long to experience this kind of love, this kind of foolish compassion for one another that was surely not healthy. Raw emotions and foolish wishes for one another. So many wishes, and so many desires. All unachievable yet they wished for them anyway. Knowing it would not happen yet putting their foolish hope into the matter. One day they would tell themselves. One day we will achieve our dreams, our passions and our aspirations. Sitting close to another, touching each others skin and entwining hands.

Romance doesn't last. That is what his friends would say, his parents, his colleagues and just about everyone else Alfred met. He saw the other couples, walking together with hands together, a strong grip that most would see as love yet holding no emotion, blank faces and false smiles. Conversing with little feeling and wishing for something better, wondering why it didn't last. Why the passion that was once so bright and beautiful has died out. Where did it go and how can they get it back. Yet none of these people tried to regain their flame. Seeing it as normal, romances always die out and a flame is it's brightest at it's peak. But Alfred didn't want this, he didn't want the fake smiles and emotion from his partner. Nights of love and passion to be faked and twisted, feeling each others skin and breath, being so close to each other and yet so far away. Wanting to be able to reach one another as they had done once before, yet being unable to do so.

Their flame was still bright, their relationship still young and both still had so much more to experience. A life ahead of them, a lot of kindle for the fire. Arthur had dreams for the both of them, Alfred knew of this. The man would often speak of wanting to move out of the hustle and bustle of the city, into the fresh countryside where the problems of judging city folk and noisy vehicles would not be an issue. A somewhat cliche idea, many held the same and many did not. He would smile subconsciously as he spoke these ideas, always marking them down as silly or unreasonable. But Alfred didn't agree, he wanted this as well. He wanted to be able to make this silly idea a reality, Arthur didn't realise Alfred listened to him when he spoke these ideas. The man would always seem to have something else on his mind, smiling and nodding as Arthur ranted on about all of these dreams, no idea of how far away from the truth he truly was.

And years later, after many days of saving pennies, collecting pocket change and working over time. Often over going the luxuries in life that were taken for granted, purposely forgetting to stop by the supermarket just to save that extra dollar, just to be closer to their goal. They had eventually done it, the hard work had paid off and a small house outside of the city had been purchased. Alfred had smiled brightly that day, rushing home to greet his lover. Arthur hadn't spoke of his dreams lately, his smile seemed to be sadder than usual and moments were hindered by a presence unknown to Alfred.

Spilling the news to his lover ever so excitedly, the feeling of disappointment was strong inside of his chest as Arthur didn't seem to smile as he used to, it wasn't the same. His eyes weren't as bright, his smile wasn't as wide and the heavy cloud of doubt was increasing in Alfred's mind. But he ignored these signs, choosing to be foolish and in love. Picking up his lover and kissing him passionately in the lips, laughing and enjoying his presence, his exhilarating scent and body. The flame was still bright, but only in his eyes. If only he had looked again, a single glance was all it would've taken to notice the fading flame, its inconsistent flickers that where ever so worrying. Love was blinding.

As the years past, it continued to dim. Growing smaller and smaller, yet not being noticed. Arthur's smiles faded, his movements slowed and hands would often shake, but from neither fear or excitement. A sense of sadness surrounded his being, yet he was not unhappy. Arthur was able to see past the veil that blinded his partners eyes. The problems that Alfred was so unaware of, so desperate to keep their love going. Never stopping, never not caring for his partner and always making sure to love him just as he had always done. Ignoring how his legs ached and his chest heaved, not caring to question why the same journey to work that he had taken for years just seemed longer, and not caring to notice why it always seemed to get longer every year. Every breath was harder and every step was growing more difficult.

But one day he opened his eyes, it had been any other day. Waking up as usual and glancing out of the small window of their house, across the garden that his partner so dearly loved. The bright flowers that grew in it's paths and the morning sunshine that illuminated the tree's causing a shadow to encase the flowers below, but not making them appear any less dull as he knew what was behind that shadow. That behind that darkness was something truly beautiful, something that did not need to be seen. Eyes had flicked onto his lover sitting out in their garden, looking across the flowers with a blissful expression on his face, pale hands clutching a cup of tea that had long grown cold - something that he would often do. Alfred stared, wondering if Arthur's hair had always been that thin. His hair so grey and posture so slouched. In fact, looking at his own hands he discovered the same wrinkles that covered his partners face, his once blonde hair was also whitened in places, his glasses were thicker and lenses stronger. A constant ache in his bones and forever struggle to move. He was starting to see, starting to notice that the flame was dying out. His flame was growing older, and so was he. They had grown, the memories of being so young and in love ever so prominent in his mind. When had it ended, was it the greying of his hair. Or the dimming of his vision, perhaps the ache in his walk or the pain in his joints. When had the flame started to fade.

And it only got worse, each fleeting day with light kisses and touches. Everything seemed to slow, his lovers footsteps grew smaller as did his own, breaths grew longer as menial tasks grew harder. His hands shook for no reason, his vision never seemed to stop growing worse and his hair never seemed to stop getting whiter. The garden didn't seem so bright anymore, the flowers had died out turning brown and eventually vanishing completely. The grass was overgrown, when did Arthur stop attending to his garden, Alfred asked himself this question quite often but knew the answer anyway. Perhaps this had been a sign, yet he had ignored it. Alfred had always been foolish, foolishly in love and foolishly oblivious to anything that threatened it.

And it had all collapsed, kissing his lover goodbye in the morning sunlight as he had always done, never forgetting to whisper or mutter_ "I love you"_ every morning before he left. And setting off with a dim smile on his face as if it had been so perfect, Alfred had grown to ignore all the flaws in his life as it drew to a close. Ignoring anything that stood in his path, ignoring all of the pain in his joints and choosing not to think why. Yet stepping back into that house after a days work, the building had felt cold. Never had Alfred felt so cold, the warm sense of his partner was gone and the house was silent. The sound of footsteps that always greeted him where vacant and the blinds were drawn as the sunlight flickered onto it's fabrics. Alfred had called out to his partner, hearing the worry in his voice and not recognizing the feeling. Frantically looking through each room, almost laughing at his own emotions until he reached the living room, stepping inside of its not so comforting depths, the flowered sofa that he and Arthur had shared many nights of passion on top of, and the old television that he had promised to fix, yet never had done so.

_And It was so cold._

The flame was gone, the candle had burnt out and his light had dimmed. The warmth in his life had vanished as Alfred had been forced to face his lover, his lover that he cared for so dearly. His warm laugh and caring eyes, slow touches and loving voice. Everything that just made him so perfect to Alfred. And he had cried. Repeating Arthur's name over, and over. Grabbing onto his body that had sat on the couch. Gripping those cold hands, gasping for a response. The entire scene was so sudden, almost like Arthur had not expected it himself, he had not seen it coming. Death was harsh, death was cold and didn't seem to care for Alfred. It had taken his light and not even left an ember. Leaving him cold, and alone in the darkness.

This feeling. This unbearable feeling, it was gripping him. He called for his lover, asking him to come back, to wake up. To laugh that sweet laugh of his, it was just a cruel practical joke. Soon he would wake up, wake up to see Arthur laying in his arms, breathing softly as he always did. But reality was cold, and he never awoke. Forced to deal with what really was, the veil of love had been broken and torn. Broken without repair, leaving a victim in it's wake.

And yet life had continued.

Even without his light, forced to carry on it darkness, it had continued. The house that had seemed to warm was now so cold, so uninviting and horrid. He could feel himself sinking, everything had left him and even though it was selfish he wished that death would come for him as well, not to leave Alfred alone like this. It was cruel, barbaric. But maybe he deserved it, for being so foolish. Ignoring every sign that was thrown at him, every time that Arthur had shown him what was truly there. He had ignored it, and now was left with nothing. No matter what he tried, the feeling of darkness was locked inside of him. Looking across their house, the familiar pictures of him and his lover, their faces were so bright, his smile was so genuine and happy. Yet it did nothing, nothing to console his grief as the man in the picture was no longer here to smile for him, to cry or to laugh. He would do anything to hear him again, to say he was sorry for not noticing and to say he loved him once again, to hold his lover close. To feel his presence that was so dearly missed.

Days carried on, weeks followed and eventually so did years. It will get better, is what people told him. But it never did, it didn't get better. The same routine followed, never ending darkness and forever searching for his light once again. Never finding it, it was gone and truly unreachable.

Then stepping outside of his cold home on a December night, Alfred welcomed the breeze that rolled past, he remembered the nights he and Arthur had spent outside on their porch. Staring into the stars and laughing, making jokes and occasionally leaning into each others touches. Brief kisses had been light, often leading to more passionate touches. Madly gripping onto each other, desperate to get closer and feel that ultimate passion that was so familiar. And as he sat down on the cold steps, staring out into the countryside, he remembered the feeling. The feeling of his partner, his scent and everything about him. It was so close, Alfred swore he could reach it.

He also noticed an odd feeling in his chest, almost as he was choking and breaths started to get harder to reach, gasping sounds came from his throat as he attempted to get air into his lungs, yet was seemingly unable to. And as it all ended, he could feel it, the amazing feeling that was missed for so long. So many lonely nights, spent alone waiting for his Arthur, his love, to return. To laugh, to say that he loved him and was sorry was leaving. It was all there, and he could almost feel a smile as it all faded away, more darkness invaded his vision as the pain in his chest grew stronger, breaths grew weaker and eyes grew duller. But this darkness was a welcomed presence it drew him closer to his lover, his light and his Arthur.

The mere presence of this feeling was intoxicating.

* * *

**I'm not sure where this came from, this story started off happy and then it just.. Turned into this.**

**Reviews and Favorites are very much appreciated. 3**


End file.
